Identity X by Michelle Muckley Page A

just missing treading on his foot.  Fifteen meters from the gate.  A head
of blond hair skipped along in front of Ben, her walk zigzagging in front of
him, making it harder to get in front of her.  Ten meters.  He made one last
push, almost knocking her down as his arms brushed past hers and suddenly the
kid was in front of him, his hunched shoulders and headphone covered ears
oblivious to the plan in place.  One last move.  Just before the gate Ben
pushed past him and got in front, ensuring that as he filtered into the queue
the kid was behind him.  There were two people in front of Ben.  A woman and a
man.  They didn’t look like they were together.  The woman scanned her identity
card and Ben saw the flash of green light.  The man in front was reaching
inside his pocket and pulling out his identity card too.  As he held it towards
the screen and Ben saw the second flash of green and the words good morning he
seized his moment.  Carpe diem, motherfucker.  He shoved the man in
front of him with all of his force, sending them both flying forward and
through the gateway.  They landed on the floor, Ben directly on top of the man
in front of him.
    “What
the!” the man yelled as he hit the floor.
    “I
know!” Ben bellowed, feigning disbelief and immediately pointing at the kid
behind him.  The security guards were at their side already.  Ben was quick on
his feet and already helping up the other man.  “What the hell did you do that
for?” he shouted back at the unsuspecting kid.  All eyes were on the youth, who
was thanks to his headphones, still unaware of what was happening and of the
mounting guilt heaped at his feet.  The man who Ben had landed on was still
straightening out his suit and tie.  He hadn’t seen anything of what had
happened but his instincts told him that the unfortunate and well dressed
fellow who had landed on top of him couldn’t possibly be to blame.  Not with a
suit that looked that expensive.  The security guards were also staring
squarely at the kid, making the very same assumptions.
    “What? 
What did I do?” the kid asked, pulling his headphones from his ears and
suddenly realising that he was at the centre of the commotion.  Ben had relied
upon the fact that nobody behind them would have been able to see clearly
enough to counter argue his claim.
    “You
pushed me right through there,” Ben said as he pointed back at the plastic gate. 
Ben’s other victim was angrily shaking his head, his cheeks bloody-red,
beetroot with rage, never once doubting Ben’s story.  “Right on top of this
good man.”
    “Officers,
did you not see what happened?” the burly chap reiterated as he inspected the
knees of his trousers whilst dusting himself off.  Ben and his suited friend
had formed an immediate alliance.  The officers were stood either side of the
plastic door, and the rest of the underground station remained perfectly quiet,
save the shuffling of feet and the odd whisper, as it waited for the situation
to resolve.
    “Place
your identity card against the screen now and walk slowly through this gate,”
the first officer ordered to the kid.
    “But
I....”
    “Do
it!”  The boy did so and walked through.  The officers snatched his identity
card from his shaky and sweat drenched palm and held it against their card
reader.  This would tell them everything about him, and since the moment he
hatched his plan Ben had been praying that they didn’t do the same with his. 
    “Mr.
James Priest.  It seems that you have got quite the record for causing
trouble.”  Ben felt a twinge of guilt knot up inside of his stomach,
temporarily rising over the hunger.  His plan was working perfectly so far, but
he hadn’t counted on feeling so awful about it.  The twinge of guilt had been
totally washed away by a flood of self directed disappointment.  He swallowed
down hard and tried to suppress it.  The officers turned to Ben and the other
suited man who had no idea